Royce Levi Australian Teacher and Author

Weapons Of Mass Destruction

O you, the builder of weapons of war
Under the guise of virtue
Claiming to save the world from a non existent foe
Conjuring forth enemies in every closet
To make yourself seem alert and provident
Proudly proclaiming your planning skill
Creating ways for the newly employed to kill
Signing treaties with belligerent allies
Who help you with funding in the guise of friends
Now hear this
Your schemes and dark dreams
Are understood by some who suffer from them
There is a courtroom unknown to you
Where judgement will fall upon you
As a guillotine of truth
The true nature of your mind
Will be revealed in a symphony of reason
Exposing you for what you are:
A greedy, cunning, scheming agent of death
Who lingers in our lives
Like the stench from decaying corpses you plan to create
So begone now before it is too late
Confess your guilt and leave your position of power
Before the world that you create
Incinerates the rest of us in the conflict you design
And note this too
Your name will be present forever
In the lists of charlatans
Compiled by the historians of tomorrow
That name emblazoned now in the servile Press
Will finally be a label of iniquity
Warning the world of the curse of your offensive planning
And the deadly animosity you create
Will sink with you in a mire of utter contempt

The Rage Of The Giants

O have you heard of the angry giants
Elag, Mrots and Tsepmet?
Their rage is infernally destructive
Tempestuous without end the wise might say
All because of our deeds in their domain
We have burnt their forests
Carbonised their air
Flooded their land
Poisoned their rivers
And their oceanic destinations
The punishment is destruction beyond imagination
A response tragically destroying human dreams
Wrath hitherto unknown
By the hands of these fabled creatures
Delivered onto man’s complacent world of normality
Countless villages
Have been destroyed by their fury
Buildings believed strong and durable
Have been converted to a chaos of wreckage
Many, many living souls
Have met with untimely death
Children have lost their parents, parents their children
All due to the giants’ vexation
In the heat of punishment for human misdeeds
What now? What next?
Your questions will clearly relate to deep anxiety
The answer must be change
New styles of living to end this fearsome displeasure
Yet these near deities
With all nature at their fingertips, are in many ways benign
In the past they have merely frowned on minor follies
Even helped to make the world a better place
By gentle disregard of trivial faults
But learn your lessons now, you fools of the past
Revise your ways in a changing world
These behemoths are too powerful to be ignored

In Search Of Truth

I felt it was out there somewhere
The truth
I have used so much of my energy searching for it
Thought I might have found it at school
But all they gave me were idealised impressions
I know it’s on the net
But somehow I just haven’t googled aptly
l tried my luck with a former advertising executive
A highly respected man
But all he did was advertise himself
Then I tried telecasts of news
But no. All the stations were owned by one man
Who focused only on crime, sex and disobedient political rivals
Hopefully I went to university sites
But was horrified to find
They had all closed down due to lack of funds
Then ever hopeful
With determination undiminished
I rang my council
But all I got there was a developer’s address
As a last resort
I rang my local police
Which led to the final blow
I was advised with arrant kindness to ring Lifeline
So here I am
Unfulfilled yet still undaunted
It is an ancient longing, mine
A quest down all the ages
And so many people in that past have been wrong
Aha!
That’s it then
The truth is only an experimental thing
Something you hold onto patiently but tentatively
Until the next contradiction changes your mind

Common Sense

There once was a leader
Obsessed with market forces
Who said lockdowns were a nuisance
So the infections increased
Ah! What a tragic failure
To show common sense
Another leader
Obsessed with his own importance
Said the virus would disappear
So many thousands died
Ah! What a tragic failure
To show common sense
Another leader
Obsessed with the need for war
Flagged weapons of mass destruction
So a deadly affray took place
Ah! What a tragic failure
To show common sense
Another leader
Obsessed with gaining power
Chose to invade Poland
And millions of people died
Ah! What a tragic failure
To show common sense
Another leader
Obsessed with peace
Gave love not war
And people went on with their lives
Ah! What a beautiful way
To show common sense

O for more commonality
To end all stark reality

Yes We Do

Do you believe in learning
The struggle to find the truth
So children are taught to reason and think
And not merely to conquer a test?
Yes we do
Do you believe in integrity
The challenge to do what is right
So leaders are forced to rule with morality
And are checked by the arm of the law?
Yes we do
Do you believe in science
The analysis of man’s world
So respect is given to rigorous findings
And research will protect the earth?
Yes we do
Do you believe in forests
The shelters and cleansers of the air
So trees will be guarded and given long life
And not felled by greed and corruption?
Yes we do
Do you believe in the sun
The star that belongs to us all
So we can strive to harness its power
And put an end to global warming?
Yes we do
Do you believe in the wind
The servant of man through the ages
So power can be churned by the wings of mills
And the climate will be made our friend?
Yes we do
Do you believe in love
The reason we have all survived
So the rich can change and be kind to the poor
And so many of the needy will be saved?
Yes we do

royciebaby

The Angel Of Truth

O lately have you seen the Angel Of Truth?
It’s not surprising if you haven’t
As the brave soul
Has been harassed by the forces of darkness
Demonic figures scheming, conspiring, intriguing, conniving
Planning with ruthless aplomb
To triumph unseen and surreptitiously
Over the integrity of human existence
On the heavenly notice board the Angel uses
You will find one warning after another
Foretelling danger from deeds of connivers
But it’s such a task these days for the poor informer
Lies are so widespread
Especially concerning climate and the treatment of illness
With simple trusting souls led astray
Even leaders deceive to stay in power
And the exposés concerning this are daily events
On the notice board
Despite all of this turmoil however
The paragon remains incredibly cheerful
If you meet him you will see a light in his eyes
And notice the resilience in his voice
It seems to me he has insight into the future
Today I saw one of his notices that was very different
Quite a surprise
Be of good cheer, it said
Slanted news, biased headlines stories and articles
Are hereby declared non sequiturs by the Highest Authority
The days of such things are numbered in a single digit
So watch this space for further good news
He walked past me this afternoon
Whistling away with an air almost of euphoria
I waved to him, too shy to speak
He waved back, gave me a smile and then a wink
So here I am now, writing this
And you can tell why I am looking forward to tomorrow

Will-O’-The-Wisp

O have you heard of the noted rebel
By the name of Edgar Crisp?
You may not yet have heard of his fame
As he is a Will-O’-The-Wisp
But it seems that Edgar whom I’ll call Will
Up to the hilt had had his fill
Of assaults on human dignity
By the makers of advertisements
Which he thinks are the Devil’s divertissements
His wrath was kindled by crass examples
To wit the overt guzzling of food
A sight causing aberration
While swilling to make harmful beer look fulfilling
Was worse than defamation
The amorous glamorous sirens selling
From chocolate to scented soap
Battered and shattered his peace of mind
Leaving no strength left to cope
And the fake bliss tainting television screens
Actually made him sick
While the lies used to foster the market
Were to him an evil trick
So what of each aberration?
Did he seek collaboration?
No. He just changed his life forever
As a gesture of defiance
By joining a well known commune
Where money has no reliance
No television, no advertising,
A kind of New World charter
And when he needed the goods of life
He simply resorted to barter
Now life goes on for this sensitive man
Unpolluted by greedy duplicity
While those who use lies to make their dollar
No longer destroy his felicity

Hero

To an unnamed journalist

So
You exposed the masters of all they survey
The psychopaths who have no empathy
The sociopaths with no trace of remorse
The conspirators, the machinators
Who seek to govern with crime undetected
And for this your head is vulnerable
Your body is tortured in solitude
Your life is threatened with eternal internment
Your future is riddled with doubt
The inquisitors
The self-important guardians of conspiracy
Demand your presence in their courts
Your karma forever in their hands
But hear this O persecuted warrior of truth
By your deeds
You have become a sacred icon
Your words are written in the timeless annals
Your name will be spoken
By the abused, oppressed, mistreated souls
In all the ages still to come
Stand tall therefore in the face of interrogation
No questioner dares deny your truth
Which has the echoing ring of justice
Forever alive and sure within itself
Yours is the cause of certainty
On which the fate of mankind depends
If you survive, then so will we all
Your downfall
Has no place in the recorded history of the human race

Resist

When a guilty voice
Tries to shape your choice
In denial of global warming
What should you do?
Resist
When a warlike proponent
Defames an opponent
With an aim to buy weapons of war
What should you do?
Resist
When a nation’s arming
Is quite alarming
And plunges the land into penury
What should you do?
Resist
When you hear machinations
To ban vaccinations
In a frantic attempt to cause violence
What should you do?
Resist
When lies about science
Condone the reliance
On the unfettered use of coal
What should you do?
Resist
When a politician
Promotes sedition
In response to a valid question
What should you do?
Resist
This above all
As night must fall
When the sinister depend on the ditherer
What should you do?
Resist

Where?

Where precisely can I find perfection ?
I’ve been looking for it for quite a while
Haven’t found it yet
I’ve received quite a few false leads
Television teems with pointers
Often linked to bargain prices
But somehow
Usually as a consequence of time
The paragon turns out
Not to be perfect in some way
Then there are political vicissitudes
Perfection is their constant claim
But alas that is just another elusive dream
So here I am
Still wondering and searching in vain
Where is it? That precise perfection?
I’ve been searching for some time now
Back as far as Aristotle indeed
Where I found some relief with his golden mean
The middle ground between two extremes
Now that seems promising
A kind of theoretical framework for perfection
Without final precision
But anyway I have long believed
There is no such thing as absolute truth
Oh dear! Now I’m in trouble
If that statement is true,
Then it cannot be the absolute truth
But if it is not the absolute truth.
That makes it true
But it cannot be true…
So know I’m in a bigger mess than when I started
Which brings me to Gödel’s incompleteness theorem
And the thought that exact precision may not be possible
That is where I am just now – but my search continues

royciebaby

The Eternal Struggle

Why is it so hard to find the truth?
To hear a true story?
Learn a valid cause of something happening?
There may well be a number of relevant factors
But it is such a task to find them
The truth is constantly hidden or distorted
I’ve begun to think money is a key factor
You know, it’s a long road that has no earning
Advertising for example
Everything sold is described with superlatives
Items for sale just cannot be so good
In an earlier age advertisements would be called lies
Or swindles
Whereas today, as they bring the money in,
They are commendable, efficient strategies
Helping the economy grow strong…
Of even more concern are the conspiracy theories
As told by connivers at the bottom of the garden
These theorists give speeches soaked in pompous venom
The message is uttered as if from a town crier
The words resemble fists thumping on your door
The clamour is so disturbing you have to yield to that power
And thus your mind is focused on unreality
Normality is then so hard to find
And once again the truth is contorted by distractions
So that wise decisions are impossible
But must it always be so?
Down the ages seekers of truth have suffered anguish
Or even death as part of the eternal struggle with lies
What of the present?
This poem is an old man speaking
Someone who has observed untruth longer than most
And seen many consequences
What can he do to further the quest for integrity in his world?
It’s quite simple really, just tell the truth:
Just now therefore, he may not know the facts
But his search to find them will continue as long as life lasts

A Word For The Voiceless

They are so many, those virus deaths
Appearing as silent numbers
In the data base of the living and the dead
Information delivered in the news routine
By the authorities in charge of things
Never a name
Only a category
Dependent on age and gender
And status with vaccination
Occasionally followed by a story
About the inconvenience of the infection
How somewhere became a no go zone
Requiring isolation…
Once, at the start of this world of trouble
Deep sympathy for the bereaved was expressed
Before key details were given
Now the trend is for numbers only
As deaths are O so frequent
Announcement is required
Necessary perhaps
But intrusive amidst the real business of economic recovery
There lies the sad distraction
For every life is a story
A beginning a middle and an end
A human existence intertwined with others
With living characters
Who struggle, fear, hate and love, hope and dream
And finally lose
That is what matters, the end of the story…
As another poet said
Every death diminishes me
So dear friends
You relatives of the lost
Know please you are in my mind
Touching my thoughts, my mind, my very soul
In ways beyond the superficiality of a mere number

The Answer Man

O have you met the Answer Man
Who is never lost for a word?
Let me tell you about his trickery
It is really quite absurd
You will constantly find him on TV
Doing all kinds of things
He plans his day then alerts the Press
And when they find him he sings
I don’t mean he actually sings a song
That is far from the truth
But when they ask him an awkward question
He spiels a counterfeit proof
Then he does a deed that makes him look good
An action that virtue denotes
He has but one simple mission in life
And that is to win your votes
So he’ll nurse a child and drink a beer
Or wear a hard tin hat
And when they denounce his latest folly
He’ll simply laugh at that
Then he sets himself up around the clock
Doing virtuous activities
He carefully performs where the cameras are
To record his popular proclivities
Thus his life goes on not frowned upon
And with constant salutation
Until in the end as he did intend
He’s the leader of the nation

Transparency

So
You are in public office
Controlling the lives of millions
Spending their money according to your wishes
And yet you object to transparency,
To public scrutiny
Of your schemes and dreams…
Are you a dictator
Not ruling but fooling in ways
None but the sanctioned and endorsed
Would dare to criticise or heaven forbid, excoriate?
Clearly and emphatically no
Therefore heed this:
What you are will stay with you like your shadow
Defining you wherever you go
Whatever you think
Whoever you praise
For you have chosen an open existence
It is the asking price of power
No words from your mouth
Or the voices of influential friends
Will save you from this clear imperative
So move on wisely
Answer the questions
Dare to be examined by communal vision
And it shall follow
As tomorrow does today
You will stand or fall according to your virtue
Don’t listen then to diversionary voices
Just be yourself
Observed
There is nothing else you can do

Conversation With A Barber

I took my mask off
Then put my hearing aids in my pocket
A haircut I was determined to have
And by Zeus did I need it!
Isolation caused by a virus is not the whole story
Old age has a similar effect
I’m not a wanderer these days
No barber visits for about a year
On this day
COVID seemed to have kept other customers away
That made me glad of the safety
And the fleece really needed shearing
Conversation was a bit of a challenge
As I’m deaf without my hearing aids
He wore a mask
And spoke with a challenging German accent
So I gestured hypnotically
Cutting the hair off my shoulders
With my fingers
And trimming the edges and the top assiduously
He nodded understanding
Then the work began
I kept my eyes off the mirror
As I’ve always been a bit nervous
Dating back I feel to the days of razors
My barber began his work meticulously
Industriously
Brushing first and then a spray
And then the scissors
He diligently stopped the hair falling down my neck
And kept on with the task much longer than I expected
After a while he paused
Walked right around me observantly
“Ja! Gut!” he said
And was finished to his satisfaction
I paid him twenty dollars for my first mullet

royciebaby

The Gift Of Learning

When I was young the world was very strange
I was often afraid of things
Thought some simple deeds were in fact a danger
Misunderstood reality more often than not
Made mistakes
As frequently as I did what was right
Now in old age
I am moulded into a different existence
Not to imply mastery of my destiny
But simply to suggest I now understand more clearly
When I am wrong
For this knowledge I will forever thank my teachers
Who not only taught me about the world
But helped me to understand myself
I do not name them here
But they are with me now, each one
Correcting my spelling
Helping me to say something in a better way
Telling the story of the place where i live
Or helping me realise an error is not world’s end
So here I am, an outcome…
I learnt my basics rather well, in all their forms
But better still, I learned to think
To look for solutions
Rather than throw up my hands in despair
How can I thank these wonderful friends
Now at this time so distant from that first learning?
My answer is a humble one:
Rejoice in doing what I have learnt to do
As long as my life lasts
And do what I can
Whenever I can
To support and respect the teachers of today

Reason And Research

The power of the mind to think
To understand
And form judgements
Is what makes all the difference
What distinguishes us from lesser creatures
Some fellow humans however are not keen to do this
And would prefer
To let others think for them
Dutifully and often
They tune in and hand their thought processes over
To well paid architects of other people’s ideas
Who tell them what they should believe
The approved line of thought befitting the social agenda
Of the rich and powerful rulers of their lives
That is how things go
Indoctrination is so skilful
You are taught how to seem to think in the desired manner
And how to condemn appropriate enemies
All this linked to how you vote
So that the wheels of the nation
Run closely according to the pre-determined plan
Of the powerful…
Some people though
Just a few of the populace
As part of their struggle
Have a dream of a better world created by logic
And awareness of the needs of all
Not a mere fortunate few
Those voices grow louder every day
Because they are linked to reason and research
Listen carefully
You can hear them
Rising above the din of orchestrated ignorance
Wisdom is an exciting occurrence
It attracts you when you give it a chance
That is why the times just now are beautifully changing

The Rhetoric Of Slander

Have you heard him lately, ranting?
How violent his words are
Falling from his mouth like daggers!
He finds more enemies to berate
Than you will see in all the conflicts of history
Notice how he operates:
You find a flaw in what he does
And he finds an enemy who errs more
Usually a friend or ally of the critic
Then comes the flood of verbal violence
As the rafters ring with his poison of condemnation
He speaks with no pauses
Wondrously obviating the need to breathe
Listing like an auctioneer on stimulants
The crimes and flaws and omissions
Of his chosen, conveniently cursed adversary
And so the game of politics progresses
Rules bent occasionally or ignored
By the party currently in power
How strange would courtesy be
If it should suddenly appear!
Instead of violent argument
Simply an exchange of ideas with a noble purpose:
The benefit of mankind
One day, some day, it might happen
On that currently venomous stage
A dream of thinkers surprisingly realised
When the foe on the left will be right
And the rival on the right, left to acknowledge the truth
Or vice versa
O how this change would echo through the ages!
The dignity of man would suddenly be restored in glory
Worthy of Elysium
Then humanity’s fate would be in the hands
Not of combatants but confederates who care about each other
For the benefit of us all

Flawed Data

There is a new virus abroad
Beware of it
It is very dangerous and in fact it can kill
There have already been many instances of infection
Right across our social structure
From the unskilled worker to the very top, yes even to a president
Its early form has been abroad in the community
For a significant time
The symptoms are quite a worry:
Erratic behaviour, disjointed speech, and irrational outbursts
The causes are well known:
Small samples, incomplete investigation, and lack of peer review
Faulty science is the common name
For years this disease has been in our lives
But in recent times, the FD variant, is now a major problem
Yes, flawed data is the challenging complication
People who catch this virus
Often are doing things they will later regret
Those infected are tending to stage wild demonstrations
Without social distance
Have lots of fights
And promote angry images in an aggressive atmosphere
That triggers political action based basically on non sequiturs
All because of faulty figures
So that is the story
Misinformation is the problem as it leads the whole world astray
I say again flawed data
When you follow its lead, despair is often a consequence
Yet
There is a message in all of this
Think hard before you hurl anger at others
Be fair and kind to your opponents
As fools are not the only makers of mistakes
You yourself can be the bridge
Tread carefully as you struggle to be wise
Check the facts and watch your fortunes rise

Bewilderment

Life has many confusions
Each day there seem to be more
People like me struggle to understand
Why we do
So many of the things that we do
For example
Why is anger a part of every waking hour?
Day after day
Someone on television
Rages with untrammelled violence
About a mistake another person has made
With the light of his own virtue in his eyes
And then there is the weather
When greeting each other
These days
People don’t remark on a lovely day any more
Perhaps this is
Because of the flood, fire and tempest we see so often…
The greatest puzzle
However
Most striking above everything else
Is why so many people in the same mould as us
Die in poverty of hunger
Little children and old folk just like me
And everyone in between
While I celebrate with ample food and comfort
In a fortunate land
What can I do about this?
I am impotent
My body is not what it was
And retirement has set gently in
Words are all I have
To share in the hope that someone with the power to change
Will remove my bewilderment

royciebaby

Soldier

What am I?
A violent robotic agent of Death
Trained to kill without asking why
For a cause beyond my capacity to understand?
Not to reason, just to dare and maybe die?
I am told I am to take action for a valid purpose
With licence to slaughter
Approved by the shapers of my existence
Bravery for me is not a reckless thing
But a fulfilment of my destiny
I am to save my native land, so the argument goes
That is my legacy, my chosen fate, and if I die
My name will be written on an honour board
With an asterisk
As the insignia of my heroism
And what of my enemy?
Is he coldly calculating my demise
Or is he afraid like me?
Are his family missing him too
And has he also left a new wife longing for his return?
If we were to meet in peace,
What would define our togetherness?
Contempt? Expostulation? Words of hatred?
Or would we conspire to abandon our weapons
And walk away together, arm in arm and alive?
I am not permitted to think such thoughts
I must believe in a danger
Defined by the crucial vested interests
That control opinion in the land I am ordered to defend
So let me answer the call
I must confront my foe who is out there somewhere
Somewhere
Aha! There he is
We look so alike; indeed he could be me
Stand back please; I am ready
Now one of us is about to die – yes now yes now now…

Deception

Have you noticed
The packet is never full when you buy it
Always there is space between the contents and the package top
So you make a false assumption of quantity
And willingly pay a little more for nothingness
This strategy of deception is simply the spirit of the age
Smart, enhanced appearance
With buyers tuned in to what isn’t there and paying for it
Profit equals price minus cost
But first you have to make the sale
Any artifice will do as long as it works, and Rob’s your uncle
You can see it all the time in television advertisements
The young man sprays his hair
And dandruff disappears before your eyes
A siren with almost impossible beauty
Looks at him longingly, seductively
As a consequence of his purchase
A car for sale stops suddenly
After clearly breaking the speed limit
And you learn the way with-it people drive and buy
A synthetically joyous family dines on sugar-laced cereals
Visually stimulating images of gormandised junk food
Increase sales dramatically
Wise old people buy insurance bonds
And enter paradise early
The home you can never own is sold by a master seller
Who bangs his fist exorbitantly on a receipt book
In the street outside
Food of the gods, chocolate,
Is devoured temptingly only by glamorous women
And so life, or in other words the economy, moves on
Fiction thrives excitingly, provocatively
In other ways too
But the gods of commerce are clearly and roisterously contented
With typical human existence
And all’s right with the balance sheet

Dog Whistle

Listen to him
Proclaiming his virtue and integrity
As if he were a saint
But condemning evil half-heartedly
To let the villains know he can be on their side
In the right factional context
The subtly aimed politically active message
Understood by a particular group
Is the deadly fuel for dubious change
Secret, sinister encouragement for shady deals
While the leading player remains undetected
Reigning supreme in his ill gotten power
And deciding the fate of less fortunate mortals
So be alert for signals, you lovers of morality
Note well the characteristic self praise
That adorns his every speech
Look out for clues to his guilt
When he responds to every criticism
With an irrelevant superlative detailing his fictitious merit
No!
Walk with others to the Eden of truth
Where honesty is real and integrity the norm
Where lies and secret agendas
Are untended growths that wither on the vine
Where kindness and love decide the fate of everything
And words are the allies of justice and peace

Atomic Fishing

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Robert Oppenheimer

Atomic age machinery
They claim it is the cheapest source of power
But what of unmentioned costs?
Hidden consequences?
Assertions are in the air
That modern technology
Should be trusted to make all dreams come true
But what of the failures
The broken dreams?
Fukushima and Chernobyl are shattered holy grails
Catastrophes not to be repeated,
Yet can we be sure
They won’t be?
And is it not right to fear
Concentrated death that mocks eternity
Filth that never goes away
Dirt that you cannot scrub clean
Pain that reaches out to you as you pass by
Racking, searing, piercing, intense, raging danger
That outlives time?
I hear what you say but have to question what you do
And what of the sun and the wind?
Energy laden falling water and waves of the sea?
So cheap
Power so readily available
Just waiting for the will to invest with vision
In the vastness of Australia
In these mighty powers crying out for attention
And for vested interests
To stop pretending these wonders cannot work
So when you throw that switch
Turn on the sun, the wind and all things free
And let the atoms serve in medicine alone
If you are fishing for a nuclear mission

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a very uncertain place
Some voices are saying that man’s inventive wit
Will provide answers to global warming
At some potent, and undetermined future time
Machines not yet invented
Will compensate for current destructive vandalism
So let industry, just as it is, go churning on
With jobs intact
To preserve the best of all possible worlds
Best?
Possible?
Worlds?
Fires that burn and destroy your future?
Floods that wash away your destiny?
Droughts that empty rivers once teeming with life?
Heat that melts the poles and kills the aged and infirm?
The formative words we have heard
Tend to fall to the ground like meaningless clutter
Turning our arena of life into a Hades of despair
The need for revised thinking is desperate…
If you are one of the climate incendiarists
Please focus your thoughts
On a possible involvement in a medical emergency
Let us learn of your peace of mind
If your life in that urgent situation
Depended on a device yet to be invented
As Hamlet says, “…ay, there’s the rub…”
What folly
Would link life or death to such unfinished business!
Therefore
Let us be frank
Something more than vague dreaming is required
If safety and composure
Are to be ours in the world of tomorrow

royciebaby

University

The many
Turned into one
A place where you can become aware
Of wisdom that gives energy to countless minds
Where knowledge is a sacred thing
Free of greed or the self interest of business
And exists for itself in triumph over ignorance
Learning there down all time
Has come
Before self aggrandisement and commerce
But not today alas
Now it is the tormented child of dealing
A link in a chain of venture and enterprise
Led not by a prince of academe but by a CEO
Learning based on profit
Or choice determined by cost
Is a travesty that would wither the flowers
In Plato’s garden*
Laws creating financial pain for students
Are tainted deeds derived from a twisted vision of need
The kind of fallacy
That graduate schools were once designed to vanquish
So rage on you merchants of selected knowledge
Count your profits and promote your agenda
But beware
Somewhere amidst the chaos you create
A voice from the past will be heard
Just a gentle sound but sense from the ages
And it will stir a giant of understanding
To turn your profit into loss
And let academic integrity rise again in all its glory

*Plato’s garden was named after his hero Akadēmos.

Dorothy Dix**

Would the minister update the house
On our latest achievements
And is he aware of any different policies?
What a sham!
Parliamentary questions are meant to seek the truth
Not to be a doorway for propaganda
Enquiries in a legislative arena are sacred things
Words belonging to the people
And must not provide diversionary information
That walks blandly along pathways of biased deception
This misdemeanour is so common
In the parliament we know presently
Every day of every session you will see it
Just listen to the orchestrated answers
Euphemisms
Superlatives concocted lies dressed deceptively in silk
All in response to questions by Dorothy
To make Utopia seem alive and well
A paradise for dunces
Described in precise detail by government yes-men
Creating an illusion of perfection to hide evidence of failure
Followed by scorn
And muttered anathemas for the Opposition
A tainted array of malediction again to camouflage incompetence
O breathes there a man who is not repulsed by this inanity?
Who longs to observe integrity where laws are made?
Who values time
And writhes in agony at the trivial, trifling, negligible empty oratory
That poses as questions in the parliament of fools
The active, focused, infamous enemies of enlightenment?

** Dorothy Dix was the nom de plume of Elizabeth Meriwether (1870-1951) an American journalist who ran a question-and-answer column.

Mandate

An official order to do something
Such as
Thou shalt not kill
Or
Thou shalt not steal
Or
Thou shalt not commit adultery
No public disobedience here
And those who disobey are condemned
And punished
According to the true and accepted nature of the law
People do not march in protest
With banners of hatred flying
To demand the right to kill, to steal or commit adultery
Why is this so?
It is because the evil is accepted and understood
Opinion unquestioned, a part of human existence down the ages
What else should shape opinion?
Scientia, sapientia, prudentia, sophia…
Knowledge, good sense, prudence, wisdom
The desperately needed tools of survival for struggling humanity
The essential model or signpost for human behaviour
Therefore
If science is to be the trusted and proved source of our knowledge,
Good sense, prudence and wisdom decree
That we must accept it as a true shaper of our destiny
To deny it,
Rebel against a mandate linked to the preservation of human life,
Ranks highly in the list of human follies
And every person who dies as a consequence of this behaviour
Will be remembered as a victim
Of stubborn, tragically aggressive wrong decisions
So come back to our ranks please
You would be deniers of essential, valid laws
We will welcome you with open arms, alive and well

Empty Vessel

Oh Dear!
How that politician prattles on
His voice has a rattle
Like a train at night on an endless line
A flood of words that seems predestined never to stop
Filled with praise about fictitious happy days
We are told how lucky we are
To have voted for this man and his phalanx
The paradise described is a fake reality
Awkward questions are interpreted as applause
By deliberate misinterpretation
Everything in his garden is so lovely
We learn from his non-stop tourist guide of paradise
That all is well this side of Hell
A light of infinite fictitious virtue gleams from his eyes
This is such a pungent disaster
Such a slander of untruths
That if it continues to hide the reality of actual policies
The world as we know it will crumble into disrepair
And democracy will die a thousand deaths
Even though this voluble mouthpiece of disaster
Still babbles on in hallways close to empty
Peopled by the hearing impaired
Whose hearing aids don’t work
And whose vision is stultified by self interest

A Tempestuous Lesson

First came the wind
Moderate at first and then it seemed to lose its temper
You could hear the rain
Light to begin with and then a torrent
Beating on our outhouse roof like fingers drumming
It was very dark
Lightning came like an errant strobe
Then the hail
Small at first but soon big, like Thor’s marbles
Beating resistance into submission
The wind grew stronger
Not merely angry this time,
Infuriated, tearing the roof and throwing it away
As if it were but paper
Thunder and lightning came almost simultaneously
Grandfather’s old oak tree was uprooted
Like a pathetic seedling
And hurtled out into the street to crush a car irreparably
Water from the river fled its banks
Sweeping our front fence away, gates and all
One of the side walls caved inwards
A terrifying consequence of the tempest
Dylan, my dog, died under the falling bricks
Little Susie was hit by one
It made an ugly purple bruise on her leg
Nothing was broken
So her mother’s comfort was all she needed
Eventually…
The storm didn’t want to stop
It kept attacking us like a fascist after communists
We were drenched to the core of our existence
Afraid, cold and despondent
Because of this, I am sure you will understand
Why I spend all my present days
Actively demanding real action to contend with global warming

royciebaby

Teacher

He taught me to think
When I stood on the verge of ignorance
Helped me to see things as they really are
And not as they merely seem to be
Gave me the power to read the messages of wonder
That now bring light to my darkened way
Showed me the paths of writing
That now and forever will let me be known
How can I thank that person from my distant past
Who understood my needs and shaped my deeds?
Shared his wisdom in a gentle way
Understood my struggle and stayed resourcefully calm
Too late now for words
But they were not needed as he did what he did
For love of me as a child of destiny
Placed in his care by the gods of authority
He is long dead anyway, and yet he lives still
Every time I find the right path through the forest of learning
Whenever I decode a written word
Or learn from a page the wonderment of the human mind
I am thankful to him
As I write I confirm the benefit of his life
Which reaches out across time like a lighthouse in a storm
And lets me share his wisdom as well as my own
A teacher can never measure the outcomes of his labour
Their echoes are infinite, but one result is clear
That hand that helped that child
And gave him the power to read and write and think
Wrote and still writes on the wall of eternity

The Doing Of A Deal

A bank is a place that will lend you money
if you can prove that you don’t need it . Bob Hope

Have you ever been lost?
Nowhere to go, threatened by the world, and panicking?
Join the crowd
There are so many of us torn apart by circumstance
For example
Fragmented by the market where lies are bought and sold
Money is the drug abounding there
The exotic, erotic narcotic that stultifies reason
And takes so many on journeys of no return
This addiction is very widespread
Have you heard the cries
Echoing in valleys of despair
Where investors have gone astray?
Errors have a strange place in free competition
Make a mistake and you’re dead
Make two and you might find yourself a CEO
In the shifting sands of business opportunity
Freedom is the adage but often
It’s freedom to fail
Usually at the hands of a potent and ruthless rival
A magnate who rejoices in profit
Gets costs down and wages lower
This the defining spirit of private enterprise
So what can be done for relief?
Is there a solution, a way out for the loser?
The key to every conversation is money
Because money talks
And what makes addiction work in the world of hallucinogens?
Why, for all intents and purposes it’s the dealer
So gather around all of you lost souls writhing in penury
Follow the lead of presidents, impresarios and robber barons
Have something to sell that somebody wants
Stand tall with the glint of victory in your eyes
Get real, affix the seal, and with a commanding flourish do a deal

Unforgotten

Yes
You were close to me in a dual alliance
We trusted each other
A willing acceptance of obligation built on love
And the sharing of existence
How the world changed for me in your company!
Life was a new experience
Once colourless, lifeless, jejune, bland
I was changed by your influence
Into a thinking reed who spoke a new language
And cared about what you thought of me
You gave me a newness that would surprise my old friends
And a spirit of enquiry you had set on fire
I walked with you to so many places
Learnt to observe with a critical discerning eye
What previously I had gullibly praised
That world that you gave me lingers on
A part of my awareness
Still with me at times when fate promotes despair
A memory that refuses to fade
That is it then
You have gone your way now with another
Beguiled by seduction to destroy the world that we knew
Found a new broken icon to repair
And I am left alone
Yet solitude is not my destiny any more
That momentum I achieved with you
Has let me wander pathways undreamed of before I met you
New friends and other love
I have found on that new and exciting journey
We shall never meet again
But for all that, you still walk with me
Not ahead of me but beside me
With me yet
In your rightful place, still a cogent part of my existence

The Drums Of War

To Whoever Is Responsible For This

I hear you beating that empty vessel of disdain
I read your mind and the print is very clear
In bold and italics
To stress your deadly dream of death
Hatred is in your blood and stirs the venom
Of your deadly lust for war.
Your reasons too are obvious
You need distraction from your failures
Attention diverted from your misdemeanours
To hide the chaos wrought by your incompetent hands
In your economy of poverty, sickness and unrest
Your folly that haunts a world you ruin with so much zest
So let disaster reign
Add distraction as your warped solution
Single out an enemy
Not real but created by your twisted mind
The solution to the troubles you have created
Beat that drum O musician of dismay
Recruit the would be soldiers
To die young for a cause you have created
March them off to Hell
To the sound of your sham percussion anthem
Inject them with hatred of a contrived foe
Teach them how to abhor
And how to kill
Give them medals for all untimely death
Glorify their virtual obedient suicide
Build a monument to their unwitting bravery
With bells sound the knell of death
At an annual celebration
Play the last post on that day
Then smile as you accept the triumph of political duplicity

Consequences

For Greta Thunberg

Desultory barriers to reason are everywhere today
You can hear the wind moaning in despair
And Thor thunders his anger in the heavens above
Death is in the air yet some demand freedom to mingle
Rising temperature is a warning of illness
And the earth has a fever
Yet voices like sounding brass demand getting on with business
Change is in the air
Not balanced, logical, planned progression
But destruction of a world once blessed with infinite beauty
In harmony with all living things
On the plains, on the mountains and in the deep ocean
Sirens, half man half burro, have their voices
Echoing in the air waves
Luring mankind to destruction
With the pathetic feasibility of their songs
The rods of extreme tyranny now beat on our doors
Demanding entry and crushing resistance with violence
The lust for power diverts normal discussion
Into tirade, diatribe, polemic, rant and fulmination
People talking and not listening
Sounds as barbs stabbing the silence without mercy
Within the chaos of this existence
Privileged oligarchs rule with power supreme
Our lives are their tools to manipulate as they please
We are the paving of their paths and they walk on us
Shaping our destines according to their needs
From criticism they are relatively safe
As the press and other media pretend integrity
Masquerade as agents of truth
And so the world crumbles seemingly doomed to die
An ugly death
Yet as sometimes happens, a single voice may dominate the din
It has been so today and the voice of a child rings stunningly clear
With the eternal strength of truth and is heard by the great numbers

Needed to make us think: perhaps all is still not lost

royciebaby

Sheep In Wolf’s Clothing

Be silent always, when you doubt your sense;
And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence:

‘Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill,
But of the two less dangerous is the offense
To tire our patience than mislead our sense

Alexander Pope: An Essay On Criticism

Can you hear it?
Misstatement disguised as reality
Threatening rhetoric crudely linked to freedom
Can you hear that man of straw spruiking
He is not selling strip tease at the Cross
But advocating something truly iniquitous
Depraved, villainous, nefarious, vicious
He wants us to run the risk of death
Of suffering
Of mental and physical anguish
For already suffering professional fellow humans
By breaking valid laws for COVID
No name is given here
But you will know him by his demeanour
He is loud
Vociferous in the extreme
Willing to label the objects of his scorn
Use violent symbols of aggressive hate
Despise science and be repulsed by logical argument
But nevertheless he has sufficient skills
To win the support of powerful patrons and underwriters
Quite an achievement for a burnt out relic of a past age
And yet there is one compensation
A thought to give us strength to face the wilderness
He is part of an unworthy and highly inept minority

Forgiveness

For A Fallen Hero

So you have gone astray
Somewhere in your distant past
Nefarious thoughts invaded your reason
And caused you to act in a way you now regret
For you are a different person now
You understand your folly
And the agony of that past temptation
Now haunts your present
Tears the image of yourself asunder
And leaves you no choice but to withdraw yourself
As a leader of men…
But breathes there a man who never played the fool?
Is there a soul on earth who never went astray?
Alas there are far too many
Who rise to glory as a consequence of sins
Who admit nothing
And fashion fruitful fantasy
To underwrite a future based on lies
They are the true dangers to us all
Not the errant ones like you
Who have learnt a painful lesson as part of their humanity
So hear this now
You are forgiven in the halls of understanding
By the real people who matter in every life
The history makers who tell the story of mankind
For they know that dissembling is the true reason
For distress in our circle of existence
Rise up again O sullied man
Join the multitude of wrongdoers who haunt each day
But stand tall in the chosen few
Who admit their guilt
Learn their lesson
And share an imperfect life with the rest of us

Pretence

Pretence it is a tarnished deed
By those who perform chicanery in public life
Everywhere you look you’ll find examples
So many, you could draft a book
Take the crafty, autocratic politician as a case in point
The one who creates a vision
So different from reality
Recorded by design so cleverly
In every news hour
Because of this, he could be indeed a different person
Have you seen him drinking beer in a crowded bar
With a stranger carefully chosen
By his staff for the shot
Or the pre-arranged child who gets a smile
And a filmed ride on his lap
Or the meeting with a corporate boss that is carefully recorded
With hard hats worn and an orange coat
And the wheels of industry turning
To imply progress is his doing
There’s a press conference too where when he’s found out
He vehemently abuses his rivals
Words for him are so critical always
When there is a recording as he speaks
Euphemisms vie with superlatives but O how the modelling reeks
True, he doesn’t sell cigarettes
Despite the death warning on the packets
He doesn’t use stimulating images to sell junk food
Or visual lies to sell other products
He is not guilty there
But his is the power to decide our destinies
His vision largely creates the life that we lead
And that is why he needs a valid and independent commission
To define a straight and narrow path of action
Far different from a so called election mandate
Achieved with the votes of a majority of gullible fools

Freedom

Freedom is a valued thing
Beloved from pole to pole
But freedom to do something wrong
Alas in truth is licence!
It cannot be condoned
Some people alive today
Have lived through many wars
Some have felt free to try to stop them
They marched to stop conscription
They marched to stop invasions
They marched to stop the war crime of killing civilians
The main reason always was to prevent death
Freedom to cause death however
Is a travesty that cannot be approved
Not with a gun
Not with a knife
And not with angry demonstrations
Millions are dying from COVID
Personal contact is the cause
So a poster advocating freedom to mingle
Is a murder weapon
That echoes in the halls of anarchy
Now the times are changing
Truly
How strange in this old world
At last to find a majority doing what is right
Salutations to the husbands and wives, children and old folk
Who have had the strength to isolate as needed
Bravo to the health workers, the food deliverers, the posties
And all the others who have carried on
Bravely in the face of danger for the good of us all
As to the others
The intrepid minority, even though you have spread the disease
We are your brothers and sisters
Mercy is here
As the aim of most of us is to help us all survive

A View Of Time

There seems to be a widespread fear of time passing
Abroad in the modern world
Anxiety about growing old is one reason
Another is your envy of youth compared to your apparent senility
A point of interest however
Is a totally different, surprising experience with chronology
Memory when it is still with you
Can be such a nostalgic enrichment of your last days
A kind of beatification of your life
So many things you remember
That are unknown to the arrogant youths around you
Look at some of these
There was the postie who blew a whistle for example
When he delivered your mail
He remains still today your friend in your mind
Dedicated to the service he provided
The baker and milkman who came to your house
Were other personal contacts
With their cheerful words on arrival
In days before the advent of supermarkets
This was company with real people instead of checkout queues
And the grocer who sold you your butter and your cheese
All wrapped in white paper with no plastic
You chose and he wrapped
And in some places rabbit sellers also called
With that cheap, delicious food that Mum cooked
People interacted far more in those days as you remember it
Personal relationships were more important and frequent
Than self-service isolation
Radios were all you had as home based media
They worked with valves
And were too big to fit into your pocket
Time with them was limited
So the bondage with television didn’t exist
Conversation and home performance with family
Mattered infinitely more
The picture show was where you saw news long after it happened
And where you fell in love with celestial movie stars
Again you mixed more with people there
And getting that ice cream at interval
Was part of a social experience
Fish and chips wrapped in recyclable newspaper
Were a common experience too
You tore open the paper to get that delicious first chip
And did no damage to the environment
And there were far fewer cars to pollute the air
In traffic jams especially
And another human being
Checked your tyres and your oil and gave you petrol
While often you just sat in the car
Mind you, it was not paradise
Many of the wonders of the present were missing
Especially linked to health and learning
But sometimes that old world you remember
Gives you relief from tension
It’s very often people your mind rekindles from the past
Characters who valued your patronage and gave you a smile
So for a brief time
In the present, you are not part of the lonely crowd

royciebaby

Paramedic

There I was
Unsure of my existence
Anxious and afraid
Body mechanisms just not working
I wondered if my time had come
His voice was gentle
That greeting almost tender
The concern for me was obvious
He was calmly so proficient
He checked my blood pressure
Felt my pulse
Looked carefully at my eyes and face
All the time talking in a friendly, unruffled way
His aura of proficiency gave me peace of mind
Fear drifted away quite quickly
A stretcher on wheels took me smoothly to the ambulance
That new friend watching over me with the driver
Skilfully placed me on board and secured me with a belt
He sat beside me during that journey
Gently but efficiently when we arrived
Taking the essential details of my personal life
Then came the sanctuary of the hospital
Where I was saved from that current pain and trouble
And given more time to live
Now here I sit writing this verse
In better health than I endured before
With only the memory of that man who changed my life
What can I do to thank him?
We shall probably never meet again
All I have are these words I write
And the overwhelming wish
To support those wondrous men and women
Who reach out and hold the hand
Of struggling souls like me

Love

Love, it is an active thing
A performer with many faces
A reaching out to another
There is so much pain it replaces
It can weave a subtle magic spell
With its silken thread of kindness
It can take away your loneliness
And cure your insular blindness
So try it: entwine yourself in another life
Though stupidity around you is rife
That love will gently tinker with your fate
And show you the power of love over hate
Even when your downfall seems decided
It will give you power to reshape your life
Where concern and care are derided
So reach out now to that untried friend
Find a way to share magnanimity
To help another’s troubles to end
With a joy that relates to divinity
Notice then as a consequence
The dramatic change in you
A different arena you will discover
Where even dreams can come true
As you have no fear and are bound to recover
With a second self to admire
If you share your thoughts, set your spirit afire
Two can turn into one
Then you will find a change has begun
In the moon and the sun and the air and the sky
And everything else on earth
A reshaping unseen by you before
In all time since your birth

A Hole In The Wall

Come with me now
Over here
By this hole in the wall
Listen to them talking
These Apates * who determine our destiny
Hear their twisted, cunning discourse of deceit
Warnings of dangers that don’t exist
To justify spending on weapons of war
Melodious canine music in support of extremists
Who attack your rivals
High praise for fictitious solutions to global warming
That will do more harm than good
Plans to earn tainted money by selling fossil fuels
As long as the market exists
Furtive PR conniving with the media
To create the myth of concern for the common man
And portray counterfeit camaraderie
Tax concessions for the wealthy and pathos for the poor
Machinations with rich backers to destroy public ownership
For the profit of the few
Endorse yes-men on radio by giving them your time
Praise our way of life with empty euphemisms
Sign your fate away in treaties with money and power
Make Satan the true hero of Paradise Lost
And pose as a guardian of the nation’s future
There you have it
Do you see what I mean when I say
It’s such a crucial source of knowledge that wall opening?
What should we do?
What course of action can we of little influence follow?
Mend that wall I say, and walk away
Towards a humane future of trust and peace
And, dare I say it, compassion for the needy

*In Greek mythology Apate was the personification of deceit.

The Unknown Citizen

There he lies
In The Hall Of Recollections
The Unknown Citizen
Quite young he was – a mere sixteen
Still at school
Loved his dog who died with him
Made a kite that once flew boldly over the roofs of his village
Dreamed of being a pilot with his country’s airlines
Was his school champion at distance running
Also aspired to an Olympic destiny
His father was dead so he lifted heavy things for his mother
And helped his aged grandparents who were both deaf
And needed aid to walk and to talk
He worked in the family garden which was so important
As they were very poor
Tended the poultry too: six hens and a rooster
In a very small enclosure
Fed them every day and collected the eggs
Went fishing by the river after school for more needed food
And mended the roof with palm leaves when the rain burst through
He was an only child of his solitary parent for most of his life
As his younger sister died of typhoid fever
Nobody knows the details you have here read
As his body was burned beyond recognition
And his entire village was destroyed
That body now lies with words of due regard
Beside the Unknown Soldier
As an ostensible token of regret and respect by a nation…
At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month
A trumpet sounds to disturb his peace
As a wreath is laid…
For the rest of the year he is forgotten

Doublespeak

So
Listen to you, so cunning you are
Condemning violence
Yet claiming understanding of the reasons for it
So you are not truly disparaging
But equivocating, dodging, pussyfooting around
Almost in favour
And thus you in reality befriend the extremists…
You are actually one of them
Because your condemnation is ephemeral
Almost faint praise
So be it
That is the modus operandi of your politics
You’re not an overt reality
Only what seems to be
A performer
An actor on a violent stage
Therefore please understand my rage
For in my lifetime I have seen violence destroy conciliation
Murders become a political strategy
And subtly aimed political whistles
Transform themselves into symphonies of success
This is my memo to you
Note well now and forever more
I hear what you say but I see what you do
The truth about you thunders above you
Lightning flashes from that storm
Seeking a pathway to the ground
A tower of deception exists
It will be struck and destroyed
And that doomed edifice
Because of your sordid reality
Will be you

royciebaby

Quest

I wandered lonely as an honest man
Amidst a crowd of politicians
My torch in daylight outdid Diogenes as it had batteries
But the result was the same
Still I wandered, ever hopeful
Ah! There was one
A large hat accompanied by a man
He looked honest
In a head piece like that and the sun so hot
You could cook eggs on the ground
So I thought I would listen to his words
He said that if the world’s buying it,
There’s a market for it
How interesting I thought
Could he mean tobacco, cocaine, heroin or illicit weapons?
Oh no! Fancy that
He was speaking of coal
So I had to assign him a different role
He was not my honest man
The search continued with my torch alight
I went to the office of the Sydney Times
But they failed my test as they were obsessed with crimes
They were not my honest men
An estate agent next caught my eye
But there I detected a plant who helped the agent to rant
And make the price climb higher
That was not my honest man
Next was an ad-man who seemed not a bad man
Until he declared junk food was good for the nation
He was not my honest man
And so the day wore on seemingly coming to a sorry end
One more guy caught my eye
A Prime Minister attending a rally
But the boos and jeers that struck my ears
Defined him as an Aunt Sally
He was not my honest man
The sun was getting ready to set
It was time for me to go home
I switched off my torch and wended my weary way
Almost home, I passed a man who was sweeping the street
Reaching for my key I disturbed my Canadian Gold Maple Leaf coin
It is extremely valuable
It rolled out of my reach and disappeared
I searched in vain
Suddenly the street sweeper called out to me
“Here it is. Under my broom. Saved from the maintenance hole.”
I had found my honest man
Or, more accurately, my honest man found me

Trophy Madness

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,
But his Captain’s hand on his shoulder smote —
‘Play up! play up! and play the game!’

“Vitai Lampada” – “The Torch of Life”
Henry Newbolt

Look at them
Hugging each other en masse
Jumping on the spot like fire walkers on hot coals
Apparent confetti flying everywhere
One of them holding a trophy on high
Flames leaping out of the ground with lascivious orgasmic delight
As cameras bring the excitement to the world
What a strange focus!
Winning is so important that you bury your opponent
The loser, in an unmarked grave
Those of us whom the years have not condemned
Will remember the dignity of Bradman
A touch of the cap in response to the thunderous applause
Perhaps a waving of the bat
And then on with the next century
Why is it so?
Why the trophy madness?
One answer could be Can-do Capitalism
Money is so ingrained in modern sport
That winning is a financial coup
Losing is just not good enough
It’s a disgrace and if you do it too often, you get the sack
As for the modern tools, the coach and his entourage of helpers,
Every step you take could be your last
Four losses in a row is like filing for bankruptcy
Any more and you’re gone
So here’s to the heroes
Those who played for nothing and inspired us all
They will live in memory
When all the balance sheets are waste paper

The Nil Hypothesis

Let it be
Clear the decks of wise and intelligent planning
Turn competition loose
And things will simply fix themselves
Give egotistic entrepreneurs unencumbered tax free licence
And things will fall into place
Paradise will be regained and maintained ad infinitum
By the mission linked to profit
Call it freedom and you can then wage highly lucrative wars
To defend it
Set the robber barons free
And all will be right with the world
Open all services to the free market
Link up with the wise and realise what a joy it is to privatise
Tie hospitals to profit, education to financial returns
Hand over the media to Midas and ignore how much he earns
Let free enterprise be you daily hymn
Ring it out loud and clear
Sell off every amenity
And you’ll have nothing to fear
If things go wrong just sing the song that echoes down the ages
Pass the buck to guiltless rivals maligned on Yellow Press pages
Never admit a planning error, invent an excuse as the reason
Let the guilty off the hook as if fools were then in season
This above all
Never stop talking about your own success
Spread it abroad on radio, TV and in the colourful press
It then shall follow as morning follows night
There will be no significant difference between specified populations
But triumph will come to the chosen few

A Study Of Lies

That politician just said that all politicians are liars
Oh dear! Can it be that he is telling the truth?
Epimenides has us then firmly in his grasp*
But let the paradox be
Let us examine lies more closely
It may indeed be worth the effort
In a world where pretence is so profitable…
Lies have many shapes and sizes
First for our attention, the inverted lie
When Nelson saw no signal at Trafalgar
He held the telescope to his blind eye
So in order to lie, Nelson actually told the truth
Then there is the racist politician who hates foreigners
But blames people smugglers
For his keeping refugees in indefinite detention
Next in the fabrication genre is the fuzzy lie
A high sounding statement with no real and clear foundation
Freedom, our way of life and our past history reveals
Are common examples of the language
The CIA overthrew Mohammad Mosaddegh in Iran in 1953
Largely over oil but the perjury was to foster a better way of life
Many more examples of this category exist…
Then alas, there is the mega lie
So potent it belongs to what we can call the master fabricator
The first example is the Trump fantasy of election fraud in 2020
There are still many, many believers all ready to act
Though it turns the Flat Earth Society into Nobel Prize geniuses
A second mega lie is linked to the GST in the Australia of 1955
When a heavy tax was imposed on the poor and the rich equally
Despite a mega lie by then Prime Minister John Howard
Who foretold its introduction with: “Never ever. It’s dead.”
Finally we end a mere introduction with the private lie
This above all: to thine own self be true**
All lies are deadly, but most lethal when you lie to yourself

*Epimenides was a Cretan who made one paradoxical statement: “All Cretans are liars.”.

** Shakespeare: Hamlet Act 1, Scene 3

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